


Des Secrets

by Gairid



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gairid/pseuds/Gairid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not an easy thing to keep secrets from the one you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Des Secrets

When I see that long-suffering look, it puts me past all patience. There seems to be no way to appease Louis, no amusement that uplifts or conversation that does not inevitably turn him querulous; immortality is apparently meaningless when, by his account, I will soon bankrupt us. Why can he not grasp that it makes no difference; there is always money to be had should we need it. His insistence on narrow mortal thinking is dismaying.

It's all so infuriating, and yet how could it be any other way? Did I not have the same kinds of questions? What am I to tell him? A little information will spur him only to want to know more and there are those things that I have sworn to keep secret. One secret, I had thought, but one leads to another and another and can I tell him only part? The nature of withholding is that which is withheld does not remain in and of itself; it swells and grows and should I speak of one seemingly irrelevant thing, the rest would burst forth like spring snow melt in a narrow stream bed. 

Sometimes the disappointment in his eyes gives me pause and a time or two I have almost given in and come clean if only to erase the look of sorrow at what he sees as my unwillingness to trust him; and then I would think on how completely dependent he is upon me and how little I know of what retribution may be enacted should I change my mind and give him the knowledge he thinks will reconcile the choice he made.

I heard him come in the front door and a moment later he stood in the doorway of the parlor, sweetly pinked from a recent feed, swaying minutely because he had not yet cast off the swoon. He looked at me as though he was waiting for something. Nothing as simple as gauging my mood, though that is a part of it, I realized with a pang. It was more than that; he has disconcerting way of knowing what I am feeling. The sharpness came back into his eyes and he cocked his head when I beckoned him to come and sit by me. 

He learned no secrets that night but we did not argue. I lay with my head in his lap and he stroked my hair; physical closeness that denied the distance between us.


End file.
